Birthday - Poem by Robert William Service

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(16th January 1949)

I thank whatever gods may beFor all the happiness that's mine;That I am festive, fit and freeTo savour women, wit and wine;That I may game of golf enjoy,And have a formidable drive:In short, that I'm a gay old boyThough I be Seventy-and-five.

My daughter thinks. because I'm old(I'm not a crock, when all is said),I mustn't let my feet get cold,And should wear woollen socks in bed;A worsted night-cap too, forsooth!To humour her I won't contrive:A man is in his second youthWhen he is Seventy-and-five.

At four-score years old age begins,And not till then, I warn my wife;At eighty I'll recant my sins,And live a staid and sober life.But meantime let me whoop it up,And tell the world that I'm alive:Fill to the brim the bubbly cup -Here's health to Seventy-and-five!